By then the dog was humping his knee.
“He remembers you. Baraboo, behave! He’s fixed. I don’t think he can actually—” She glanced at the kids and whispered—“do anything.”
“He’s sure trying hard enough.”
“You should see him when he doesn’t like someone,” Kevin said. “Just let him lick your face and he’ll quit.”
Feeling totally beaten, Harry leaned down and let the big dog slather his face. “I’ll be glad to pay for obedience training.”
“Been there, done that,” Tara confessed. “Come on in.”
“They have dog psychiatrists now.”
She threw him a pitying look over her shoulder. “He doesn’t have a problem with anyone else.”
He followed Tara into the laundry room, where he left his boots and jacket, hat and gloves. As they went through the kitchen, she offered food and drink.
“I could use a drink or a hot fire. I’m frozen to the bone. The car was freezing up.”
“You’re lucky to have made it. I’ll make you a drink. A hot toddy?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Go on into the family room. There’s a hot fire going.”
He followed the kids to the cozy family room. He went immediately to the fireplace, rubbing his frozen hands.
One of the little girls, Erica maybe—he couldn’t keep them all straight—joined him in front of the fire. “My hands and feet froze when we were out building a snowman today. I didn’t cry though.”
“That’s hard. I want to cry now. Thawing them out is the worst.”
“Yeah.”
The little one joined them. “I freezed my feet one time. Yeah, I did.”
“Poor little thing,” he said. It seemed that the children were accepting him. Must be his irresistible charm. “Did it hurt?”
“Nooo.” She shook her head. “I’m a big girl.”
“Yes, you are. And a good girl, too.”
“Not always,” Tara said from behind him.
He turned to face her, accepting the tall mug she offered.
“How are you doing?”
One swig and he laughed. “Better already. A hug would help, and a pair of slippers.” He laughed. “Never mind. That’s just what I was wishing for when I was standing out on your doorstep.”
“I might be able to find slippers.”
He sobered. Men’s slippers suggested a man somewhere in the vicinity. It meant she lived with someone. Typically people with four kids lived with someone.
When she came back, however, she carried a shoebox. “I got these for my dad for Christmas and they were too big. I can’t remember how they got over here. I never got around to exchanging them. He didn’t need another pair of slippers, anyway. I just couldn’t think of anything else to get.”
“Does he live here in Chicago?”
“Yes, fairly close by. Dad and Mom.”
“That’s nice.”
“How about your dad? You mentioned your mom, but not your dad.”
“My dad passed away when I was fifteen. A car accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Did your mother marry again?”
He shook his head, letting the subject drop.
The kids had already grown bored with the conversation and wandered away to the big screen television. They either had Premium cable channels or a CD going because it was a fairly recent release.
“How did the new plants fare?”
“They’re still alive. Tiffany up-dumped her Norfolk Island pine and one of the branches broke off, but it’s too soon to tell. I think it’ll survive.” Another silence fell between them. “How are your feet thawing?”
“Good, I guess, because they hurt like hell.”
She flinched. “I’m sorry. Why did you come back?”
He’d asked himself the same question countless times in the last twelve hours. “I was worried about you, facing a blizzard with just you and the kids here, all alone. As far as I know, their father wasn’t around to get you through this.” He laughed self-consciously. “And here I was the one who got in trouble.”
“That was sweet of you—more than sweet, driving all that way back from Indianapolis to make sure we were safe. You could have been stranded, or worse.”
“I’m here now and close to total recovery, so watch out. I might jump your bones.”
“Or die trying.”
He laughed, though he wasn’t sure she was kidding. When she didn’t share his mirth, he sobered. “Okay … Now what can we talk about?”
“We could discuss your harem some more, figure out why you need so much variety. Does it have something to do with your father’s death during your teenage years?”
“I told you, it’s not a harem. I don’t imprison anyone. I don’t support them. I don’t require that they live their lives around my schedule, except for one week a quarter. They’re free to do whatever they wish for the other forty-eight weeks of the year.”
“What other similarities are there among the dizzy dozen?”
“Hey, have some respect! Every one of my women is educated and independent, a health care professional in either a hospital or clinic. I have certain standards, you understand.”
Tara giggled. “I can just guess what they are, too. 36-24-36…”
He laughed loud and long. “Don’t I wish? With all the anorexia floating around these days, they’re more likely 18-18-18.”
She dipped her head, and he sensed that he’d insulted her because she had an average figure. “Hey, normal is good! Having a bust and hips is good. More than good. I love curves.” He gave an exaggerated look at her curves. “Boy, do I love curves!”
She blushed, a pretty pink, and they were silent for a time. A laughter sound track from the TV covered the silence. Eventually, she turned to him. “It’s not normal, one man and twelve women, no matter how compartmentalized the relationship. It’s not right.”
“As long as they don’t mind, why should you?”
“It’s none of my business, I know. I just can’t accept your behavior, no matter how attractive I find you. I cannot be a party to your aberrant lifestyle.”
“Thanks for giving me so much hope! I might as well turn around and drive home right now, for all the good that I’ve done worrying about you, making sure you’re safe.”
“I never asked for your help. As I said, it was sweet of you, but totally unnecessary.”
He sat for a while, pondering the situation. “The storm isn’t over yet. I might be of help to you yet.”
Harry slept on a very comfortable king-sized guest bed in the second story of the house, directly above the family room. The house was bigger than he’d thought; there had to five or six bedrooms, in addition to the rec-room and family room and office or den and unnamed rooms scattered here and there, not to mention formal living room and dining room and the sun porch. Where did she find the finances to afford a house of such proportions?
He was on strike this morning. He refused to get out of bed until she dragged him out. He realized he might starve to death before she saved him. It was nearly nine o’clock before she finally ventured into enemy territory, otherwise known as the guest room, when he now lay. She didn’t venture too close. The door jam was the closest she was willing to go. “You missed breakfast.”
“I absolutely couldn’t get out of bed after yesterday’s trauma.”
Rather than sympathize, she snorted, hurting him to the quick. “What?” he demanded.
“I give you credit for coming back, that was kind of Don Quixote-ish. But you see, we didn’t really need your help … We’re fine on our own, and I don’t intend to vie for #13 Week in a twelve week quarter. Get the picture? Thanks, but no thanks!”
“No! I can’t live without you! How can I convince you? What if I gave them all up? Every last one of them?”
“You’d do that for me? Give up all your women, the variety and reliability?”
“I might consider it, as a last ditch effo
rt.”
“Why? Why would you shake up your whole being for … me?” With each word, she came a foot closer, as if pulled by a magnet.
He waited until she was at the bedside, then popped up and caught her lips with his own, gently nipping and enticing her to enjoy their time together. “Where are the kids?”
“Watching the Weather Channel.”
“How bad?”
“We had another foot overnight with 12 more inches expected today.”
“Holy shit,” he said. “It never quits. We should hire a service to clear what’s out there.”
“We have one. He hasn’t made it here yet, but this is only the third day, if you count Friday when it started.”
“Sheesh! I can think of something more reliable.” He pulled her into bed on top of him.
“Like…”
“Me … making love to you.”
“Maybe someday, if you’re lucky.”
“Why not now?” He shifted position so that he was on top. They fit perfectly. He nuzzled her neck while he sneaked his hand across her breast and his knee over her thighs. She was effectively pinned down, but with luck, she wouldn’t even realize her vulnerability, simply accept his advances.
“I need you,” he whispered in her ear.
“I need you, too…” she whispered back, “to take the kids out and run the energy off. I can’t stand it anymore! Get up, get up!”
He laughed his head off, unable to resent her approach. Sex would have to wait until another time and place, preferably somewhere more private, and with a lot less kids around. For possibly the first time in his life, he admitted, she’s worth waiting for.
Five
Never had Tara allowed herself to be knocked off her feet by any man, and certainly not a womanizer like Harry Howard. She needed to get him out of her house, out of her life, out of her … heart. The snow kept piling up, blowing and drifting, with a forecast of at least one more days of heavy snowfall. She was already going stir-crazy. The kids were taking the enforced confinement better than she.
Of course, Harry had something to do with her state of mind.
How could she get him out of the house, before any more damage was done?
“Let’s shovel the driveway!” she announced to the four kids and Harry and Baraboo. At least the dog woofed his approval.
“It’s cold out,” Kimmy complained.
“We may as well wait for a snowplow to come past,” Kevin suggested. “Otherwise, they’ll just plow us back in.”
“So how do you propose we get Harry back home today?”
“It isn’t going to happen,” the child genius proclaimed.
Harry sent her a big smile.
“What does a six year old know?” she snarled.
“We can build another snowman,” Erica suggested.
Tara shivered at the thought. “Honey, we’re out of stovepipe hats and button noses.”
Harry scratched the itch in his ear.
“Thanks, but ‘No thanks’,” Tara replied.
“So are you independently wealthy, or do you work for a living?”
“I work. I graduated from Northwestern, though I don’t work in my major.”
He’d found her in the office, off the central hallway on the main floor, working on the computer. Even on this Monday, the snow still fell.
“Do I get twenty questions?” Before she could refuse, he posed his questions. “What was your major and what do you do currently for a living?”
“That’s two questions.
“I asked for twenty, remember?”
She sighed as if he was a pain in the ass. “I’ll answer this time. I majored in early childhood education, but I write for a living.”
“As in…”
“Children’s books.”
“Really? Have you sold anything?”
“Actually, yes. I lucked out and sold a series of children’s science fiction books. The first is due out any day.”
“Good for you. What’s it called?”
“The Marlin Family Series.”
“Holy shit! The one they’re calling the next Harry Potter Series? Everybody I know is talking about it.”
“I’m not in her league by any means.”
He gawked at her for half a minute. “You’re kidding me, right?”
She smiled. “Yes, of course, if it will make you feel better, I’m kidding you. Right now, I’m developing an early childhood series. Complete with my own illustrations.”
He watched her out of the corner of one eye. “Who owns this house?”
“I sure don’t.”
“Can you please answer one simple question? Whose name is on the title to this house?”
She ducked her head. If she admitted the house belonged to her brother and the kids weren’t her own, she’d have no defense against his charms. “Why can’t you trust me?”
“But you really did write The Marlin Family Series.” His tone suggested it wasn’t a question, rather a reality. “I apologize. I thought…”
She assumed an amused look. “I know exactly what you thought.” That she was having an affair with the owner of the house. “I’m not, so your impression that I’m a ‘kept woman’ doesn’t bother me.”
“What about the children’s father?”
“Fathers,” she corrected. “Two children apiece. I believe I mentioned they’re on a cruise.”
“Are they really in the Caribbean, or is that all fabrication?”
“They’re really on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. They have no idea they’ll receive roses from their children on Valentine’s Day. It was totally the children’s idea to send flowers to them on the cruise ship.”
“I shouldn’t ask, but are the fathers gay? My mother wanted to know.”
She laughed. “You’re not even close.”
They lapsed into silence. Finally Harry composed a new thought. “I’m very attracted to you; I have been since the minute I saw you. Unfortunately, I’m not rich. I didn’t write the next phenomenal series for young people. Is there any hope for me to find a place in your life? Can I be of any service to you?”
She took a long time answering. “Harry, you’re sweet and fun and know how to treat a woman, but as I told you already, I have reservations about your relationships. Even now, if you were to give up your dozen harem dancers so suddenly, I’d have to question your motivation. Truly.”
“Guess I should have declared myself before I asked you to divulge your innermost secrets, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” She couldn’t help smiling.
“But remember? I tried to put the make on you this morning, before you let it slip who you are.”
“That you did, but then, isn’t that typical of a man?”
“No! I was totally sincere, I assure you.” He gauged her response, eyes slit halfway shut. “So do I have a chance?”
“Marginal, at most.” She turned so he couldn’t see her grin.
He moved quickly for such a large man, taking her breath away. “Don’t play coy with me. We’re both adults. I don’t play games, and you seem too mature to tease a man. It’s up to you whether we share something significant while I’m here.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Then let’s get acquainted.”
The four children lounged in front of the television in the family room that same Monday morning, already bored with television, no adults in sight.
“We should go build a snowman,” Erica said.
“We already built two,” Kim reminded her.
“Yeah, but there’s enough snow out there for a hundred snow mans.”
“Who would want a hundred snowmen?”
“We could have a snowman contest!” Erica said. “With different kinds, like the biggest, the scariest, the most creative.”
“You guys will just get cold and wet and want to come back in ten minutes after we get out there,” Kevin said. “Why bother?”
“Because it snowed, and it�
��s perfect for making snowmen and we’re kids and that’s what we do. We play in snow when it falls.” Kimmy sneered at them before flouncing off to the laundry room, which doubled as a mud room.
Kevin glanced after Kimmy in surprise. One minute, she didn’t want to go out; the next, she was campaigning for kids’ rights. “Women,” he said with a huff.
Kevin helped Tiffany into her snowsuit and gathered her gear before starting his own. Kim and Erica followed, donning thick socks, snow pants, jackets, hats, gloves, boots and scarves. The snow had stopped falling, at least for now, but the wind blew bitter cold on their cheeks, and swirled the fluffy snow in their faces.
“I’m cold,” Tiffany complained.
“We just came out,” Kimmy protested. “You can’t be cold yet. What about our snowman contest?”
“I don’t care. It’s cold out here.”
“Yeah, it is,” Erica agreed. “Let’s go in and watch TV.”
They were just outside the door stomping the snow off their boots when Erica spotted a white rabbit huddled in the corner next to the door. “Shh, don’t move, look—a bunny rabbit.”
“He looks cold,” Tiffany said.
“Yeah, he’s shivering. We need to take him inside and warm him up.”
“Can we keep him?”
“Of course we can.”
“How do we catch him?”
“Good question. Stay here, don’t move. I’ll get Kevin. He’ll know.”
“I’m cold.”
“I know, Tiffy. I’m cold, too, but the bunny is even colder. I’ll be back real quick.”
She was good to her word, Kevin and Kimmy at her heels.
“Isn’t he cute?” Erica exclaimed.
“He looks frozen to me. We’re probably wasting our time ‘cause I think he’s too far gone to make it,” Kevin said. “Let’s all four make a barrier so he can’t get past us. We’ll move in real slow and I’ll catch him.”
“Why don’t we open the door and herd him into the garage?” Kimmy suggested.
“Too many places to hide,” Kevin protested. “We’d never find him again.”
“But he’d be warmer than out here. At least he won’t freeze to death. And if he doesn’t have a chance of making it, what’s the difference?”
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